Sonic never goes away
by Erman Bullock
Summary: This is what happens to your life when you play Sonic the Hedgehog. -Kids, when Sonic the Hedgehog touches you in a place that makes you feel uncomfortable, that's no good.-
1. Deep Descent

You were sitting at your computer. Perhaps a little bored? So you contemplated what you could do to waste just a little more of your life a way; perhaps an hour or so? Just then you thought of the perfect franchise to do this with, the perfect video game series designed to waste the life of the users who played it. Sonic the Hedgehog.

It was written in some of the lost Reddit forums: he who plays sonic—in the pursuit of "going fast"—shall be smited by the hand of god and will lose their life in turn. Either by joining some sort of cult they called: the sonic fan base, or perhaps by playing the useless game that is Sonic the Hedgehog. Either way, it did nothing but ruin people's lives. If you were any other people you would of tried to stay as far away from it as possible-like your life depended on it. Unfortunately for you, you felt a little into the idea of "ruining your life" at the moment. It was a phase.

Last summer, you and your friends went to a garage sale that was hosted by a nearby neighbor of yours—one that you never knew existed. It was filled with some of the strangest and creepiest items you and your friends had ever seen. Stuff you probably would only see from an old drug addict's collection of antiques from the 60s. Actually, after seeing the neighbors, you guess that made sense.

You started to wonder whether there was anything at all that would be valuable to you in this place, but then you saw something that caught your eye. You spotted a cover with a blue smiling anthropomorphic hedgehog on it; something about its smile make you uncomfortable. You picked up its used and stained case, and bought it for 3 dollars. One of the neighbors gave you a deep grin afterwards and said: "Thanks, (y/n). I'm sure you'll love it…like we did". You feel a chill down your spine as you grab the game and go. Did you even did her your name? You awkwardly shrug it off, and move on with your life.

Ever since that day, it has laid on your shelf; lurking in the shadows and dusk. Despite you seeing that game on your shelf every day for that past year, it still gives you shivers. But now, you are giving it the opportunity to possess your screen—hoping it doesn't possess something else instead. Everything felt wrong about it. Everything felt wrong about you. However, you decide to ignore your basic human instincts and prepare yourself.

You grudgingly pick up the case and open it. The cartridge was perfectly intact—brand new even. After taking out and setting up your Sega genesis, you put the cartridge in. It made a clunky sound as in entered, as if the console was resisting its presence. Before the game started up, it made this very distinct but faint screeching sound—the sound may have been the screaming of a thousand human children warning you that your actions have consequences. A wave of horror embodied you, it was almost unreal. So unreality that you couldn't fully understand the horror you should be feeling. You were about to play sonic the hedgehog…

A bombing voice appeared before you, introducing itself. "Sega". Was that another name for 'Satan' or the name of a game company? You weren't scared though, you were used to entrances, at least company ones. Just as the game loaded up, you felt a shock got up your spine; you hoped it wasn't the game performing satanic rituals on it. It probably wasn't anything, you thought. But then, he came. It was Sonic…. Sonic the hedgehog. He was waving his finger with attitude as well as give you a look a determined victory—His victory. His image, however, made you feel… powerful.

As the game prompted you to press start, you did so almost instinctively. Too instinctively… and as you did, the game started to run like any other game did. Other than the more momentum style platforming, it was pretty much another Mario clone; you didn't see why it had the particular reputation it had. After a rather average gameplay session, you decided to set your controller down and focus on more meaningful activities; like living.

After a few seconds, you started to see that sonic was becoming a little bit more impatient with you. All that power that you initially had, seemed to fade. You realized that you secretly didn't want to disappoint the blue blur and you freaked out a little inside. As a reaction, you pulled the plug on the console and the screen went to black. This was a sign of relief for you, and the wave of momentary stress went away. After all, Sonic the Hedgehog is just a video game, it's not like anything else. It's Just a video game, you swear.


	2. Unseen Whispers

You happen to wake up in the morning… fully dressed? A headache ravaged your poor fickle head as if it was being stomped on by a satanic child. Please stop. Please stop! The room seem to spiral around, and a nauseating effect attached itself onto you from your feet all the way to the center of your head—like the feeling was coming straight from hell!

What did this to you? Was it something you ate? No… You knew exactly what caused this, and its malicious entrails where still residing in the cartridge slot of your Sega Genesis—Lurking not just in the shadows, but in your subconscious. You played Sonic the Hedgehog, the infamous game itself. It might be a sign. No… You shrug. It's just a game… That is all it is. You will get up, and continue on with my day. Perhaps you're just tied? The best part of being dismissive, is… well it doesn't matter anyway. Sonic was just a bad experience, nothing more, and you probably will forget about the whole thing tomorrow.

You get out of bed, and begin to deliberate your wardrobe for instructions. Despite an extensive catalog of positive Christian wear, you knew of only one outfit that would fit your academic needs: your school uniform. It was the standard grade 10 uniform at Royal Christian Secondary School. Black pants, a blue robe, and a golden Victorian vest. On a usual day, putting on this particular outfit was long and tedious, but for some reason day… was different. You wanted to get out of your room and off to school as fast as possible.

After dealing with all of the chores and personal hygiene of a teenage child, you stop briefly to succumb to your traditional affairs of the heart. Bending deeply into your knees, with your hands reaching far away, you offer yourself to the hands of god. The deep, warm, and muscular hands of God. And you sit there in silence. Your mind flickers quickly to the unappealing gameplay that you had undergone the night before—Oh God, What would you think of me? You shock a little bit in your place as your thought about Sonic the hedgehog. Somehow trying to seek out to god just felt wrong…. Like God wasn't the one you were naturally supposed to pray to. Then who then? Why was your mind driving yourself and tearing itself apart with this ill brand fantasies…

You assume your normal position, getting yourself the proper time to straighten yourself. But somewhere, somehow, this slow pace was annoying to you. Quickly grabbing a knife off your wish-chest, you grab its blade and watch as it slide along your arm. The pain, it was intense, but this was a commonplace kind of pain: a training exercise on your focus. Draining all the evil away from your heart. Once again, God had given you its blessing, and you are once again whole. Putting disinfectant, a slight cotton dab, and a long line of medical tape on the area of interest, the wound became as aesthetic as it was functional.

You finally open the door, the entrance to outside your room. You look back to the game cartridge. _Sonic the Hedgehog…_ _Is what they say about that game… no.. That THING…. It is true?_

Your father sees you as your leave. He looks down to see the patched out wound.

"Ah… Good boy!" Your father nonchalantly pats your head on a job well done. As you walk away, he hits your butt; another one of his signs of affection. It is nice to be loved.

You make your way to the kitchen. A steamy, but modest, breakfast was prepared. Raw eggs and lentil stuffed in a breaded Fish. The best part of breakfast was being reminded of Jesus Christ. The raw eggs and lentil were made to embody the guts of he who died for our sins, the fish to represent the vessel of Jesus's generosity, and the bread to represent the common man. You think about what life would be if without the Virtues and God that made it all look pretty. All people would be doing is consuming copious amounts of drugs and selling their bodies for petty change. You have 25 cents in your pocket and you didn't even need to sell yourself to someone else. Atheist really were sick…

"(y/n), would you care for do the offering for today?". Your mother said with the sweet sound of femininity in her voice.

"Of course" You said, with the sweet scent of quality breakfast in your nose. But you wouldn't say you were lusting after it… That's a sin and that goes against your Christian instincts.

It was the job of a man to do the daily 'offering' every meal. How else would you show your love for God and all the things that were wonderful on his earth? The fish, which of course was boiled alive, was made to survive the process of being prepared, impaled, and breaded. While carefully grabbing the ceremonial dagger blessed by your church, you slit the throat of the fish and listen carefully to the sounds of its askings. It is said that as an animal is sent to heaven, it can pass on the wish of God as it leaves this world—reminding everyone of the virtues and commandments that others would have to faithfully follow to share its fate. It was a breath of fresh air to your otherwise morbid morning.

But this time, you could hear something else. You could barely make it out, but in your heart you knew what it said. _Sega …. Sega….. Sega._ Each time it sounds the closer it sounds to you.

A shiver goes down your spike. What have you done? No matter how far you run, its too fast.. He's too fast…

"Are you okay, my son?" Your father gives you an eyebrow, the same eyebrow you hate.

"I-II .. uh…" You stumble over your words as you are still in shock. You mom couldn't help smile.

"Oh that reminds me of the first time you did your offering. You were 5 and you wouldn't stop crying…" You mom almost sounds like she was about to laugh, but seemed happy to remind you as a baby.

"Mom, Stop it! You're embarrassing me…." You barely manage to blurt out.

"Whatever, can we eat now?" Your sister smile a little too eagerly. But then again, women couldn't help but be a little gluttonous sometimes.

"Dear! How unlady-like of you! We are suppose to the fish as it passes. Now everyone, hold hands." Your mom spoke what was expected of her. Everyone knew it was coming. So everyone held hands and your sister was prompted to make the blessings for grace. Once it was all over, we began to eat the lovely meal in front of us.

Once it was all said and done with, you decided to make your way out the door. But before you do, you stop. Something bad is about to happen, and that feeling will never go away. It drive inside your storage like a worm eating away the intestine of your body like a sawing needle weaving in and out. You look back at a cross hanging on the wall. Knowing that you might need its protection, you quickly grab it and hang it around your neck.

Unbeknown to you however, the cross's chain broke the moment you went out the door. Not even God can save you now


End file.
